


Fractals

by AmateurQVH



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers - MTMTE
Genre: Bondage, Hurt/Comfort, Kink, Love/Hurt, Other, Smut, Sticky Sex, Violence, mention of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 03:05:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10710855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmateurQVH/pseuds/AmateurQVH
Summary: Jazz and Bluestreak have had a good thing going for a few months now, things are going maybe even great. But when tensions run high and old rivalries rear their heads as memories come back, things begin to tremble and possibly even fall apart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Aaah! I realized after having released this dove to the world that I messed up hugely on one of the characters(Blurr which was meant to be Bluestreak, eeh), I'm so sorry everyone! I am fixing it as you read and will republish the new, correct version as soon as it is done. Again, I am so sorry for the screw up, please don't be too mad at me, sorry again, bye~

He panted against the ball gag that had been shoved so heartlessly but gently in his mouth and was now covered and dripping with oral fluids like the ones streaking down his chin and neck cables. The vents needed to keep his systems at some semblance of cool were barely being achieved, much like how he was trying desperately to hold back his overload until his master gave him permission. A quiet hum at his audios and the feel of the electric whip pressing against his over sensitive, slightly bleeding backstrut in one of the previously abused spots jerked him back to reality. He gave whimpers as the tool, currently off, moved up his strut tediously slow.

"How do you feel pet...?" A gentle, baritone voice inquired.

More whimpers and squirming against the tight cuffs around his wrists and the ones on his ankles with a bar in between, keeping his legs a distance apart, was the mechs only response. That, and more iridescent, purple-pink lubricant oozing sweetly from his valve as thoughts of what had already happened and what was in store raced across his processor in a mad rush. His mate liked to get around much the same way, zipping and speeding around everywhere he went.

"Mmm, I see," the voice uttered. "you would like me to continue, yes?"

The tied mech nodded vigorously, pulling as hard as he could manage against the restraints.

"And what if I were to stop, and just leave you like this, helpless ad exposed? You could do nothing to stop me..." The larger mech drawled on, taking a few steps away from his victim, behind the other mech and out of sight and touch via field.

The mech sprawled out jerked and pulled against both sets of cuffs again, giving desperate little cries of protest at the suggested idea. The mech could and had withstood a multitude of tortures and whims, but being left out in the open, exposed, where any mech could at any time walk in and see him and do as they liked with him and exploit any weakness, that amount of unpredictability, frankly, frightened him. Not that he would ever openly admit it to anyone.

From a few feet away, the speedster watched his victim whimper and whine. Usually he was much more quiet, reserved, and controlled. But tonight he seemed ready to start begging at any moment, to plead for his master, for more contact, more pleasure, more pain. Whenever he acted like this, needy and restless, it usually meant either something had happened or he had remembered something, or a combination of both. But whenever he tried to help the saboteur, when he initiated the comfort and healing, he just pushed him away and shut down and often enough would leave and he would't see Jazz until their shifts ended the following day. So he had learned just to let him be and do what he was asked to and let the smaller mech work it out on his own, which is the way he seemed to like it with these things.

Jazz was like a bit of a scared turbo fox when it came to the sensitive subject of his past. If one tried to approach him he might lash out or run away so Bluestreak would usually just wait for Jazz to come to him if he liked and if he didn't then he left him be to his own devices. If he did this, he would usually return to his normal self in the past. He tried not to let it bother him that Jazz always avoided talking about whatever memory had popped up or what recharge flux or memory had woken him up this time, but as of late the bad recharge fluxes were more frequent. Jazz was getting less and less recharge and when he did he was always twitching and groaning in a a bad recharge flux. Bluestreak had also noticed that he had been working more, refueling less, and when he interacted with Bluestreak it was usually to get a good frag in and if not then he was closed off and cold towards his mate. He guessed he was doing all this to distract himself from whatever was in his head that was causing him so much fear and pain.

Bluestreak shook his head free of the thoughts. Whatever was going on, Jazz would tell him if he wanted but until then he needed to fulfill his role at current.

A smile itched at the edge of the controlling mechs lip plates, as he could sense and almost see his mates field lurching and lashing about and his body trembled, trying horridly to find his lover once more, hoping he hadn't left like he has suggested. The speedster took a few steps back towards the mess of a mech on his knees, whimpering pleadingly. As soon as he got closer, the others field smashed against his own and he felt the full strength of his arousal and need and the feeling and sight only made his own grow more.

"Don't worry pet, I wouldn't leave you like this, not this time. You're much too pretty to do something so mean right now. I'll talk wonderful care of you pet, don't you worry one bit."


	2. Chapter 2

Jazz recharged peacefully in the berth beside him, his inner thighs thoroughly covered in his own lubricants and his valve filled with Bluestreak's own transfluid and most likely slightly if not more soar from the events that took place only fifteen or so kliks ago. Bluestreak laid beside him awake, staring up at the ceiling with a servo on the back of his head, thinking as he so often did in the middle of the night. Prowl didn't like it when he did this, the staying up late and sometimes into the hours of the morning. He said it affected his work majorly, reports and other such things, and even more so impacted his shooting, or more specifically snipping. Not that it really mattered though, it was his strong suit and he was possibly the best in the business, if not in the top five.

But Prowl wasn't the subject of thought right now, Jazz, his mate, was. Something was going on, he guessed that something in his work, if you could call it that, had made him remember something. The sudden thought of how much he really didn't know about his lover scared him. Jazz liked cold showers, the strange Earth creatures called cows, energon first thing when he woke up or he would get grumpy. He liked darkness, said it was something to hide in, for some reason he liked Earth music, he liked waxing himself, hanging out with Prowl, he looked up to their leader, Optimus Prime, and trusted him, but couldn't help but constantly question him and everything he did, and he was close to the little mech Bumblebee. He had a troubled past that he preferred to get, and he always had to have something to do or his mind would wonder and he would become philosophical, which he hated, he was more partial to living in the moment and just doing what he felt was correct, not thinking about it, just doing. Not to mention the fact that he was plain and simply out of his processor altogether most of the time. Jazz was also a bit of a masochist, he liked to feel pain, especially if he was in battle, if someone could land a hit on him he loved it, he liked the challenge and the reminder that he wasn't immortal after all. He said it brought back that feeling he had when he first joined the cause, that want to train all the time and become the best and prove everyone wrong any chance he got. Other than that, he didn't know much about Jazz, not really. Bluestreak estimated he knew the same amount as any other bot about Jazz, maybe a small bit more, but then again he hadn't even known him as long as some of the others, such as Optimus, Prowl, Bumblebee. Jazz was never concerned about his own past or his current needs, he was always trying to look after and help others, even when he needed the help more. Maybe he did so to try and make up for some past mistake that he had decided could only be forgiven if he forgot about himself and aided others as much as possible.

Bluestreak was brought from his thoughts by movement on his left. He dragged his optics over to see Jazz shifting with a slightly worrying look on his face plates. He was dreaming again, or rather, remembering. The last time he had tried to wake Jazz from one of his night terrors, he had ended up in the med bay with one of the saboteurs knifes wedged in his shoulder joint, so he had a second thought about trying to wake up. But the last time he had left him be to either wake up or settle down again and sleep on, he had bolted awake with optical fluid streaking down his cheek plates and an almost scream filling his vocalizer and then he hadn't talked to anyone or even looked at anyone for a day straight, which told everyone something was wrong since he was usually such a social, upbeat mech. In this instance though, he decided to try something new.

Jazz continued to squirm and tangle himself in the sheets slightly and Bluestreak put his plan into action and prayed to Primus that it would work and he would just settle and go back to a gentler sleep and he wouldn't end up in the med bay again. Ratchet would be grumpy about being woken up, especially for this again. Bluestreak rolled onto his left side and carefully, cautiously worked his hands under then his arms around Jazz. He gingerly held him and pulled him closer to his own frame.

"Shh, Jazz, I've got you, you're alright, I've got you," he muttered quietly to him. "you're safe now, I'll protect you, don't worry, there's nothing to be afraid of anymore.."

Bluestreak tensed slightly as Jazz shifted in his arms, but when he cracked an optic open, he saw the white and black mech laying there, recharging peacefully again. He let out a vent and let himself relax, hoping he wouldn't disturb him by doing so. As he laid there his thoughts began to muddle together in nothing and recharge called to him from close by.

Primus had heard him after all.


End file.
